Grammy Nominated musician Jesse Welles speaks to the Phil on all things music and his body of work.
The Phil is the world oldest student society and is situated in the Graduate Memorial Building in Trinity College Dublin, founded in 1683. We’ve hosted some of the world’s finest, both as members and as Honorary Patrons.
The 341st Session of The Phil.
Jesse Welles performs “The Poor” at Healing Appalachia 2025!
Review: Jesse Welles at Freo.Social
Jesse Welles at Freo.Social
Wednesday, January 28, 2026At Freo.Social on Wednesday night, nestled amongst a small entourage of seasoned concert-going veterans, it was difficult to know what a debut Australian tour should feel like. When you see enough gigs, you can’t help but have a certain expectation. For an artist like Jesse Welles, on his first trip to Australia, his tour had sold out in record time, notably due to his ever-amassing online presence. At the end, audiences left feeling like they had witnessed something special, something rare. Not like Bigfoot rare, more like truth rare, the kind that punches you in the chest and then laughs about it.
For those who came in late, Jesse Welles’ ‘overnight’ success had actually been years in the making. He has cultivated a fanbase through social media and extensive touring in his homeland and Europe. He has been embraced by a community willing to be drawn into tackling potent themes ever-present in our current global landscape and not shy away from how the world seemingly operates. This is paired with his prolific ability to effectively speed-write lyrically sensical tunes with infectious acoustic hooks, sometimes dropping five or six a week that aim right for the heart of the current political climate (notably his own in his native USA). This includes corruption of the establishment, hypocrisy, the military-industrial complex, the ‘idiocracy’ and the plight of the human condition. His humanism and body of work slot perfectly into what the world needs right now: artistry with purpose.
A two-hour-long set can prove a challenge to hold any audience fully engaged, but at times this show felt like you might be watching some history in the making, with his performance presented and packaged so well that Welles’ sizeable body of work was so refreshing in its delivery that it felt like the universe had just cracked open a beer and said, “Hey, man, look at this!”
Freo.Social’s intimate space provided a fitting backdrop for Welles’s first WA show. Known to be a venue that can transform with its lineup, from high-energy rock and punk to more contemplative solo performances, Welles turned it into a sanctuary for folk-infused protest music and storytelling. The space mimicked Greenwich Village in the 1960s, especially with the hair. It must be mentioned. It was like a mop straight out of 1973—thick, shaggy, wild and falling into his eyes, and it perfectly matched his retro folk chic. The percussive strumming of his acoustic guitar gracefully held up a middle finger to the new world order establishment. Part Neil Young, part Marc Bolan, all vibes.
Momentum was building early, and there was a reserved but eager energy amongst the concertgoers. At showtime, with no dramatic entrance, no bombast, and no greeting to the audience, Welles calmly and intently walked to centre stage, alone and armed with his road-worn acoustic guitar, exuding the kind of quiet cool and confidence that doesn’t need to announce itself, and immediately launched into Join ICE, a perfectly timed opener given the current social unrest plaguing Minneapolis and the greater USA, to a huge cheer from the audience.
The opening acoustic-only stretch of approximately eight songs dutifully covered the expanse of modern culture and how he viewed his own world and the lives around him. The genius of the storytelling was the wit and humour embedded in the lyrics and how they were arranged into the deceptively simple folk tune delivery, especially on crowd favourites like Fat, Fentanyl and United Health. Other highlights included The List and The Great Caucasian God, with lines that cut into modern fractures: health, inequality, exhaustion, and the creeping absurdity of daily life.
These acoustic openers all hit with stripped-back potency, carried by a voice with a weathered edge that made every lyric feel lived-in rather than performed. The crowd responded in kind: not rowdy, nor completely vocal in recognition. Cheers rose at certain lines, as though people weren’t just enjoying the songs and the dark humour and satire infused within them, but most importantly, they agreed with what was being said.
Welles’ lyrics convey an image of a loaded pistol with the future in the chamber. A songwriter working full-throttle with a genius kind of speedwriting, who is surging through a creatively chaotic output that makes some lyrics linger and sink in like a virus. His performance invited the audience to pay attention. Songs that began gently soon sharpened into something more urgent, especially given the times. He undeniably carries the spirit of protest music in his writing, but live, it hit with a different kind of weight. The acoustic guitar was percussive, almost insistent. Although not angry in a performative way, it was more resolute. The kind of protest that comes from observation, not spectacle.
There was little small talk or banter between songs. In fact, they almost tended to seamlessly blend into one another. With a performance lasting around two hours in duration and taking in approximately thirty songs, little was said at all. However, in effect, he did not need to. He would rather let his words and music speak for themselves, and the content of his songs was all that he wanted to say. He carried with him the silhouette of shy stoicism, possibly crafted but certainly sincere in how he holds himself on stage. Not wishing to be corrupted or carried away by the corporate suits who seek to market him to the masses and cash in on his online fame. His stage demeanour suggested that he was more comfortable answering to no one but himself whilst publicly raging against the machine. The dude just wanted to jam.
And jam he did. After the acoustic set was done, without a break, his band filled the stage behind him, and things got electric. Backed by drums and bass with no additional introduction, Welles’ band hit the stage and turned up the volume. Welles himself notably changed the tone on his acoustic to fit the mould, expertly utilising some effects pedals on his acoustic (which he proudly wielded for the show’s duration) to slide into the amplified tones and up-tempo energy of the band set, rolling out Domestic Error and Philanthropist. In fact, one of the rare times that he did engage directly with the crowd was to introduce a special tour guest on his track Red, Ambrose Kenny-Smith from King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. Kenny-Smith unleashed a blues-psych hurricane of a harmonica jam, one of the evening’s notable highlights.
The relationship between Welles and his band was one tight unit, like they had been touring together for years. Additionally, they threw out huge crowd-pleasing covers such as Black Sabbath’s Paranoid, Nirvana’s Heart-Shaped Box and the seminal CCR classic Have You Ever Seen the Rain. Covers which were delivered as covers but still felt as if they conveyed that quintessential Welles vibe which the evening had spent cultivating. It was during this part of the show that he fully put his shredding and picking skills on display and turned up the effects and let his acoustic guitar scream out some pulsing electric tones.
Welles was left a solitary vigil on stage once more for his second acoustic piece of the night. Songs such as Bugs and Turtles and his heartfelt dedication Saint Steve Irwin allow him to detach and take a breath from protest-laden anthems and ponder the beauty of what is great in the world. Delivered like they came from the pages of his personal journal and gorgeously feel-good, there was a sense of a matured artist displaying that he wasn’t just a troubadour of doom and revelation.
With obvious comparisons and influence to arguably the greatest social commenter and protest songwriter of our time, Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan, it seemed only fitting that Welles slipped in a cover of Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright. He may have wished to shake off the image of the comparison, although it’s undeniable the influence was there across a vast expanse of his current catalogue, along with the brooding archetype of the artist who wished not to be pigeonholed. Dropping in a rendition of Tropical Fuck Storm’s You Let My Tyres Down seemed a seminal recognition of the underground Australian music scene before he finally closed the night out with his own ballad, War Isn’t Murder.
So, in his first WA concert, which spanned nearly thirty songs across approximately two hours, with rotating acoustic and electric sets, there was a compelling mix of Welles’ protest-laden anthems and more introspective folk ballads. It was a show to be remembered and one to take notice of. Just him, his guitar, his band. No walk-offs, no speeches, no bullshit. Not controlled, not commercial, just human.
https://xpressmag.com.au/review-jesse-welles-at-freo-social/
The power of the protest song
With everything that’s going on in the world I’ve been thinking about the power behind people’s right to protest — and the equally powerful strength of a protest song. Music and protest go hand in hand, whether it’s Woody Guthrie, Billie Holiday or more recent acts like Green Day, Rage Against The Machine or Jesse Welles. Bruce Springsteen even visited Minneapolis the last week of January to perform a solidarity concert alongside Tom Morello, where he performed his latest protest song “Streets of Minneapolis,” which he’d just written earlier that same week.
Protest songs have always carried a rare kind of electricity: they have an ability to turn private frustration into a shared, undeniable force. They put injustice into words that ordinary people can carry with them, sing together and rally around. In moments when voices feel ignored, a protest song can make it impossible to ignore what’s happening.
Let’s examine a list of just a few of the protest songs that bring people together and give voices to those who can’t carry their message on their own. And hey — maybe there’ll even be some new-to-you music discovery along the way.
…
Jesse Welles — “Red”
Jesse Welles has quickly become one of the more political musical voices of current times.
Yes, this is a tongue-and-cheek track poking fun at right wing politics. But what it’s also doing is imagining a world where war is the ultimate unifying factor between the world’s people, and when war comes “we all hold hands.” Welles really channels his inner Country Joe McDonald on this one.
https://www.iowapublicradio.org/studioone/news/2026-02-03/the-power-of-the-protest-song
At music’s biggest night, we had an Ozark native nominated for 4 Grammys. Jesse Wells was in the running for categories like Best Folk Album and Best Americana Album. We spoke with friends and family at a watch party for him today who say Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Yes. Friends and family gathered in Rogers on Sunday, all eyes on the Grammy stage and all hearts with Ozark native Jesse Wells. For his mom Kat Nichol, the moment is hard to put into words.
Of course I was very proud anyway because he’s just an amazing human being and then he’s got this amazing drive.
She says Jesse always had a path and as an underdog, he’s finally being recognized for his talents.
I knew that whatever he did, it was going to be great because that’s the way he’s wired.
Now with a massive online following and 4 Grammy nominations, Jesse Wells. She says the recognition hasn’t changed what matters most to him.
He’s just a very compassionate person, so whether it’s on the playground or here now on the world stage, he’s always thinking about other people.
I’m thrilled to be here, stoked to be here this afternoon.
Jessie was also a presenter for Sunday afternoon’s award show announcing categories like Best Rock Album and Best Alternative Music Album.
All right gang, let’s keep it rolling. Here’s the next categories.
Every now and then you have one of those opportunities where you see a student and you’re like, this one’s got a lot of potential. Jesse’s middle school band director Mike Mankins knew he could do this.
Jesse was one of those students that was very determined. And a lot of a lot of strong will drove that determination and says this should serve as an inspiration to any small town kid with a dream. I’m so proud.I’m so thankful that I had the chance to share my music and my passion with you.
Jesse didn’t take home a Grammy Award on Sunday, but those closest to him say this moment is bigger than awards. He’s going to be right back to what he loves to do, which is play to people.
I want to know what makes you react. How are you able to do these songs so quickly? And what gives you that spark to react and do these viral songs?
Uh, I see it go down just about like everybody else. And, uh, I suppose I’m in a hurry, so that that makes it go fast. Um, and uh, yeah, I think I’m just singing what we’re all seeing and saying. Yeah.
What has been the reaction that you’ve gotten both good and bad from particularly the songs about ICE? Although all your songs are really keenly observed.
I think it just gives us a spot to have a conversation about what’s going on. I think some folks, they hear it and they go that that’s what I wanted to say, thank you for articulating it. Yeah.
In this current climate, do you ever feel nervous about putting that online?
No. No. No. I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.
How do you feel about people saying you’re the new Bob Dylan? That’s been said more than once.
Oh, that’s silly. He’s, you know, he’s on a level unto his own, so.
So, we have a question now from the Zoom. I’m sorry I didn’t hear who it was. What was the first song you did on Instagram that was the one that really got the attention?
I had a tune called War Isn’t Murder. I put that up and I think that that got a reaction. Yeah.
What do you enjoy about this whole experience?
Uh the it’s a great shade of red, the carpet. Yeah, I think that’s wonderful. Yeah.
What’s keeping you optimistic in 2026?
The innate feeling of a duty to be optimistic and to have faith in the future. I think it’s the responsibility of artists not to grow cynical.
How do you how do you stay from doing that?
All my efforts. Yeah.
Hey, how’s it going?
Firstly, can you introduce yourself on camera and say what you’re nominated for?
Of course. My name is Jesse Welles, and uh, honestly, I got four nominations, but I I don’t know what they are, so…
I can tell you.
Okay.
Best Folk Album, best Americana album, best Americana root song, and best Americana performance.
Cool.
How do you feel?
Radical. Yeah, I feel very, very, very neat. Yeah.
Um, how much would you say that music is becoming sort of limitless at the moment for young artists especially, because of social media people don’t need studios anymore? I mean I mean what are your thoughts?
Yea, there’s no gatekeepers. There’s no one standing in the way between you and your audience and I think that has opened it up for everybody.
I mean how do you go about your own music and how do you go about publishing it and and things like that?
Yeah. Well, you know, I’m always making tunes and I just go out in the park by my house and I shoot it and I put it up, you know, and if they like it, they do. And if they don’t, I hear from them.
So, what are you most proud of?
Oh, I do it out of a out of a duty to a to a tradition. So, you know, I’m I just like doing it.
Yeah.Yeah.Thank you very much.Thanks so much.Yeah.Yes.
Protest songs have long been a force in pop culture, and now they’re making a comeback, thanks in part to singer songwriter Jesse Wells. With Robert Costa, we take note.
The story of America can be told through the lyrics of folk music. As folk singer Pete Seager put it, “A song isn’t a speech. A song is not an editorial. If a song tries to be an editorial or a speech, often it fails as a song. The best songs tell a story, paint a picture, and leave the conclusion up actually to the listener.
And if you’re wondering whether folk music is still relevant today, take a listen to Jesse Wells.
He is 33 years old with a voice older than his years and a message that speaks across generations. There’s something about right now that just seems to be hitting to have a guy with six strings singing about the times.
Every dog has its day.
Wells can be softspoken in person, but behind the microphone, he sings loud and clear.
Hi, good to meet y’all.
He takes aim at anyone he thinks takesadvantage of working people. The folks in folk music at a Greenidge Village record store last fall. Wells dug through his musical roots and his mother’s influence. She really liked Crosby Stills and Nash and she liked Fleetwood Mac. She liked pretty pretty music, but no one was really talking about Dylan. So, I suppose that was maybe the first solo space mission I flew was to go and find like some folk hard folk music.
He was in New York to perform on CBS’s The Late Show, where he chose a song
that speaks to the unease some feel about our moment in history.
Wells is up for four Grammy Awards tonight. Recognition that this Trouador from Ozark, Arkansas never expected, especially considering his talents seemed to be more on the football field rather than the stage.
Is it true your sister once said your voice sounds like burnt toast?
Yes.
You weren’t always comfortable with your voice.
No. No. But burnt toast is still edible.
With that simple and direct burnt toast sound, Wells gets millions of views on social media. He tapes himself alone in the Arkansas Hills.
With lyrics that can seem ripped from the headlines.
Do you see yourself as a political figure?
A political figure?
Yeah.
No, not at all (laughing). No.
Cuz these are sometimes pretty charged songs, right?
A political figure…
Those songs got their start here in his spare bedroom turned studio.
Show us something that you’re working on. Well, I just did this one the other day.
I like that. It’s beautiful. You think you’re a little shy sometimes talking about your music and what it all means and what you’re really trying to say.
I can’t tell you what it means. Like it’s up it’s up to everybody. Nobody is going to paint anything and and tell you this is what I mean when I painted this. You know, that’s no fun. That takes away your experience.
For Jesse Wells, the meaning and the experience of folk music is about keeping its long tradition alive and relevant for audiences today. You feel connected to that tradition, that folk tradition. I think it’s important that it doesn’t go away. It’s something that, you know, has been going on. It’s been going on for centuries and centuries. You just, you wake up one morning, you go, “This is what I do. This is what I was supposed to do.”
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/jesse-welles-keeping-the-spirit-of-american-folk-music-alive/
Review: Jesse Welles has brought back protest music and he doesn’t care who he hurls rocks at
One of social media’s biggest new talents has dropped into town and he’s got a few bones to pick with everyone.
“You can know a lot, you can know a little, but whatever you do, just don’t blow the whistle.”
If you haven’t come across Jesse Welles yet, chances your social media algorithm is mostly skewed towards funny pet videos and homewares “hacks”.
But for those who have jobs that require being on top of every major crisis, scandal and catastrophe — or just those with a rank addiction to doomscrolling the many absurdities of 2026 — chances are Welles has popped up.
He’s done very well to ride a tsunami of social media attention over the past few years, amassing 2.1 million fans on Instagram alone. But unlike many dozens of contemporary social-star-turned-touring-musicians, he’s done it without the aura of an opportunist dancing for money.
Instead, he throws heavy stones at the government, and just about anything else that is big, powerful and seemingly untouchable.
A mate of mine described him as the “TikTok Woody Guthrie”. The shoe fits.
At some point in their lives, every long-haired bloke with a guitar thinks they have a revolutionary message to tell the world — one that definitely hasn’t been shared before.
More often than not they end up looking and sounding like that poser uni student on Family Guy.
But with Welles, 33, the shtick feels effortlessly legitimate. He’s appears a shy guy at heart and his appearance on The Joe Rogan Experience showed a soft-spoken bloke armed with some very strong opinions about the state of our planet.
With songs criticising the endless lists of alleged misdeeds of major powers — from big banking, pharmaceutical giants, arms manufacturers to the White House — it’s very unlikely he’s on the roster to play JP Morgan’s Christmas party.
Or most weddings for that matter.
But he doesn’t need to now. Because he’s struck a note with millions of equally fed-up listeners around the world in a remarkably short amount of time.
At his live show at Sydney’s Factory Theatre, which took place amid the backdrop of the raucous biannual King Street Crawl, it was immediately clear punters were here for something different to the deluge of party punk bands playing across the Inner West on Sunday.
Leaving the sweaty downstairs shindig to go listen to a comparatively reserved protest singer felt like going to eat vegetables while sitting next to a platter of greasy burgers.
But surprise, surprise, veggies are good for you.
While he has a very impressive Kurt Cobain-esque rasp and extremely refined songwriting chops, Welles isn’t the kind of dude who’s trying to knock you down with vocal gymnastics every song.
It’s more about a man slinging poetry against a classic, folk guitar backdrop.
The arrangement sometimes borders on comedic, especially his flighty tune about the Boeing whistleblower scandal, a bluntly-worded song about the deaths of high-placed former employees after they spoke about alleged malpractice.
“Your life can be trash, completely dismal. But it could always be worse if you just blow the whistle.”
Where someone like Bob Dylan wraps messages under layers of imagery, Welles goes for the blunt punch to the teeth every song.
A large portion of his set is dedicated to a more standard style of folk rock with a drummer, but the meat of his work that propelled him all the way from Arkansas to Sydney is in the dozens of timely, solo protest songs that go huge on social media.
He didn’t have much to say to the Sydney crowd between tunes, the songs do all that work for him. He simply said “this place is cool beans” when an enthusiastic punter welcomed him to Australia.
There were thunderous cheers from the Aussie audience when he alluded to First Nations people in a song about immigration, and then when he said “Greenland is in trouble”.
But for those expecting this protest singer to preach politics in between songs like John Butler, this isn’t the gig.
What did surprise me is how band-focused the set was. A roaring cover of Nirvana’s ‘Heart Shaped Box’ was an unexpected departure from a gig billed as a solo folk singer — and the show is much better for the variety.
Up-and-coming musicians are finding it impossible to cut through amid the social media deluge as everyone attempts to “game the system” and get their song popping.
But Welles’ simple videos of him plucking away in a field have proven there’s still an appetite for the most bare bones of entertainment.
Plonk him in the corner of a 1966 American coffee shop and he’d probably blend in pretty effortlessly.
That’s always a good thing to say about an artist, I think.
Jesse Welles’ ‘Down Under the Powerlines’ tour continues with a second night at the Factory Theatre on Tuesday January 27.
He caps the tour off with back to back shows in Perth (January 28, Freo Social) and Adelaide (January 29, The Gov).
https://www.news.com.au/entertainment/music/tours/review-jesse-welles-has-brought-back-protest-music-and-he-doesnt-care-who-he-throws-rocks-at/news-story/f33f3542d998c961fff29bdd46c22c1c